


Just Try and Take Me Away From You

by TheGrammarHawk



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Anxiety, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Forehead Kisses, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kissing, Literal Sleeping Together, Nightmares, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, believe it or not it's p soft, i'm sorry for my traditionally messy tagging, it was at midnight and i was anxious so i transferred it to this lad, okay that's not really mentioned but y'all know it's there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-17 15:58:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18101756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGrammarHawk/pseuds/TheGrammarHawk
Summary: Haunted by a nightmare of a memory from his childhood, Subaki finds himself nearing another breakdown.





	Just Try and Take Me Away From You

**Author's Note:**

> yea sometimes u just ya know... get that good anxiety attack starting up late at night and gotta WHAP it onto a character in a sort of vent fic. Subaki was my first fates husband and is still my very favorite, so he's ah... an easy target.  
> Corrin's name is never used in the fic because I'm particular about my MUs! If you read my story Kidnapping of the Lost Prince, you'll know that my F!Robin in the story goes by Tawney and has her own sort of distinct personality. I have like... a different Corrin for every play-through I've done and each has their own nuances, but while I wrote this through the mind of my main Corrin, Îrlæh, I didn't want to subject y'all to reading her name over and over. This way, you can use your own Corrin's name in your mind too, if you want, as well. Picture Corrin however you want for this story and live your best lives.

_Comb your hair back. Once. Twice. Keep going._

_Tilt your head, look over yourself in the mirror. No strands of red out of place, be it hair or a stray eyelash or eyebrow. Oh, but make sure your eyes are still bright. Red enough to give off their pretty color, but not so much that they’re bloodshot._

_Is that a dark spot under your eye? Disgusting. If you were doing everything right, you’d get enough sleep in the first place. Grab some powder, cover it and the rest of your all too many blemishes._

_There, now pin your locks up. They may come down for formal social events, not for war. As pretty as you need to be, you’d be the exact fool that would get blinded by your own hair in battle. Clasp it back far enough so it can’t dare whip into your face._

_Gods, you can’t do any of this right, can you? It’s a simple morning routine! You’ve been doing it for how many years now – at least a decade, and you haven’t mastered it? You absolute disgrace–_

Subaki flinched as the feeling of a slap came across his face from a hand not present. His breathing hitched for one, two seconds as he stared at himself in the mirror. Despite the darkness of the room, he could see the latent panic in his eyes. Surely if he glanced down his wrists would be red from unconscious, anxious scratching of his perfectly manicured nails against old, old scars.

It couldn’t have been later than two in the morning what with how dark it was. He was near halfway turned to look out the window when a warm hand firmly grasped his shoulder: he did not startle, no, in fact, he was surprised that the hand was only here now.

“I’m here.”

The soft, sleepy voice of his wife released a tension that had built up along his shoulder blades, allowing the pegasus knight to roll them back slightly in acknowledgement. He knew if he turned he’d be face to face with eyes a much brighter red than his own, unnaturally glowing in the dark in a strange supernatural way that seemed less and less strange the more often the two slept together.

Though that familiarity was less brought on by sleep and more by his constant wakefulness at night.

Subaki didn’t want to turn around yet. The eyes would be too bright, too sharp, too _knowing_. It seemed she understood, however, as instead of shattering the already cracked porcelain in front of her, she simply moved closer, her lips pressed against the back of his shoulder as the front of her body radiated an inhuman warmth into him. He could feel her hair tickle at his neck, bare from his half-completed habit-induced routine that had been driven by the clear nightmare… memory?

As if she could tell he was sinking back into his thoughts again, he felt a gentle kiss against his skin. “I’m here. They will never, ever be near you again. They can’t hurt you anymore, my love. They’d have to get through _me_.”

A weak, half-sarcastic huff of air that could be taken for a chuckle was his only reply. Yes, he supposed that much was true. His parents would have hell of a time reaching him giving his new status ever since he married. The near purr-like rumble of sleepy breathing coming from a literal demigod was enough to solidly root Subaki in such an idea. No, his magistrate parents would hardly be able to defeat a dragon in order to intercept him, and they’d likely be unable to do any harm to her - physical wouldn’t dare even be considered by such loyal nobles as they were, but verbal…? His beloved was stronger than him. She’d never let anything they could say hurt her.

(Frankly, she had already mentioned giving them her own choice words once this whole ordeal of a war was over. He had never thought the dragon princess could ever look so… hateful, not even toward her many enemies. It appeared her own in-laws were the only exception.)

When Subaki felt his upper body being maneuvered, turned around to face her, he didn’t fight it. He let her wrap her arms around him, one hand taking his hair back down as the other slowly, lovingly, dragged its fingers up along his scalp, pulling him down to press his forehead against her collarbone. Neither of them chose to mention the sudden wetness of what could only be tears coming from him unwittingly. It wasn’t important.

Instead, Subaki found himself focused on the feeling of a feather-light kiss placed on his right temple, a soft hum in his ear that sounded like an ancient lullaby, likely the same one he heard Sakura hum on occasion that Queen Mikoto had used to sooth her. Perhaps such gentle comfort ran in the family.

Even as they made their way back into the bed up in the quiet little treehouse, Subaki found himself still trapped in her arms. This was alright, he supposed. He was used to being cornered, caught, and held against his will in a trap like this.

Well. Perhaps not like _this_ … but that was what made it all the better. No bad thing, no _war_ could take away this secret safe space he had.

Not even the enforced illusion of perfection.


End file.
